


Die for you

by chocoprompt



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Hanahaki Disease, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, i'm not... particularly happy with this but well here it goes, those three characters are the most relevant but most of the blue lions make an appereance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-14
Updated: 2019-09-14
Packaged: 2020-10-18 08:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20636264
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chocoprompt/pseuds/chocoprompt
Summary: Sylvain starts coughing up petals.





	Die for you

Sylvain’s in class when it starts. The Professor is doing a lecture on _Reason_, and for motives unknown to Sylvain, she had forced him to come. He decides it is worth paying attention anyway – make a part of his time useful and all of that. His span of attention isn’t especially high today, though, so more often than not, he finds himself glancing around the room, and his eyes land automatically on Felix, whose reason to be here is a mystery as well.

Probably the Professor again. He looks bored, but he’s taking notes anyway, and Sylvain bites his lip – his brows are furrowed as he seems to be trying to make sense of whatever is on the board. He’s wearing his characteristic frown and out of the blue, Sylvain starts coughing.

“Are you okay?” Annette asks, eyes worried.

Sylvain swallows, feeling his throat protest. It aches. “I am.” He waves his hand dismissably. “What were you saying, Professor?”

* * *

Sylvain lets out a breath, wiping his hair out of his sweaty forehead. The Professor had told him he was to take a Certification Exam next week, and though Sylvain’s riding is really good – he has always been a friend of horses, after all – he supposes a bit more of riding can’t hurt him. It’s less tedious than practising only with his lance, and it’s a lot more fun, mainly because he spars with Ferdinand.

Ferdinand’s flushed and panting as well, but he raises his weapon nonetheless. “Come at me, Sylvain!”

“Don’t tell me twice!” Sylvain replies with a laugh, ordering his horse to move forward and hitting the other man on the side. He manages to avoid his counterattack, and as they both breathe heavily and look at each other, a voice interrupts them.

“You two should head back, or else you will miss dinner!” It’s Mercedes.

“Coming, coming!” Sylvain replies as both of them get off their horses. They are heading towards the stables, chatting lightly, when Felix comes into view.

“Felix, hey!” Felix blinks but starts heading towards him anyway.

“There you are. I was looking for you.”

“What’s up?” He dismounts his horse as they reach the stables.

“Ferdinand!” Caspar yells, and Sylvain zones out of their conversation. He ties his horse to a stick, before filling a bucket with water from the fountain and putting it in front of his horse. When he turns around looking for carrots, he sees Felix.

Felix shrugs. “The Professor and Ingrid were looking for you the whole afternoon.”

“I was training with Ferdinand.” Felix doesn’t reply. “Hand me some carrots.” Sylvain orders Ferdinand, who is brushing his horse, mount already taken off and he’s feeding him from time to time. Sylvain watches as he whispers something to the horse before taking the bag full of the vegetables. He passes it to Sylvain, who smiles at him in thanks.

“Be quicker, Ferdinand! We gotta eat, and you still owe me a fight!” Caspar’s complaining and Sylvain barely suppresses his laughter.

“Alright, alright! I’ll check up on you before bed.” He tells the horse, patting him slightly before turning towards Sylvain.

“I will start heading to the dining hall. I must thank you for this wonderful ordeal.”

“Don’t mind it. It was fun and we practised a lot.”

Ferdinand smiles at him, eyes shining. “Let’s do it again sometime!”

Sylvain’s startled but he smirks. “Sure. See ya later!” Both Ferdinand and Caspar walk towards the dining hall, leaving Sylvain and Felix alone.

“Is he a good sparring partner?” Felix questions just as Sylvain takes a carrot out of the bag.

“Yeah, I suppose. Probably not for you, though.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Sylvain’s rises a brow at Felix, and his breath catches in his throat. Even if the sun still illuminates enough for both of them to see, Sylvain feels completely mesmerized by Felix – the sun is behind him, casting some kind of halo around him. Sylvain turns to his horse, shaking off those thoughts. He can’t avoid the wave of irritation that reaches his throat, and he barely manages not coughing. _What the fuck?_

He feeds him the carrot, patting him lightly before replying, voice just a bit strangled. “I just meant that he’s not your style. Give it a shot by all means, though. He’s strong.”

“Not stronger than the Professor. I still haven’t managed to beat her.”

“You think you stand a chance?” He asks, taking his own horse’s mount off. With his hands, he caresses the skin slightly before reaching for his own brush.

“Not now. But maybe in some months.”

“I don’t think I have ever heard you so unconvinced about anything.”

He can hear Felix rolling his eyes. “I’m not unconvinced. I’ll beat her.”

“No doubt. You know I’m rooting for you.” He’s finished this side, so he circles around the horse, offering more carrots before starting to brush his other side. “I always am.” Sylvain winks at him. From this position, he can see Felix. He’s got his arms crossed and he is resting his back against a few boxes. He breaks eye-contact as soon as Sylvain makes it.

“Hmph.”

They fall on a comfortable silence, the only sound being the wind rustling the leaves of the branches. “I’m almost done, by the way.” Sylvain comments. “Just let me give him one more carrot.”

He separates a bit from the horse, putting the brush away on top of another box. Taking another carrot, he touches the horse’s muzzle and caresses slightly, offering it to him. “That’s it, good boy. You did an amazing job today. Let’s put you inside, alright?”

“I’ll do it.” Someone says, and Sylvain turns his head towards the source. It’s Cyril. Sylvain tilts his head.

“I don’t mind doing it.”

“Nah. I already finished all the job I had to do and had dinner. Leave ‘im to me.”

“Let’s go, Sylvain.” Felix orders, moving away from his position. Sylvain nods, flashing Cyril a bright smile.

“Thanks!” Sylvain pats his horse once more before following Felix. He has to run slightly to catch up to him. “You walk quickly.”

“You’re just too slow.”

“Liar.” Sylvain murmurs, laughing when Felix throws him a disbelieving glance. “Just kidding! Let’s go eat, I’m really hungry.” He throws an arm around Felix, who sighs but doesn’t push him away immediately. Sylvain blinks, smile flattering slightly.

“You were the one holding us off.” Felix remarks and Sylvain shrugs, feeling a familiar ache on his throat again.

“Nobody told you to wait for me, though.”

Felix clicks his tongue and even in the low light, Sylvain recognizes a light flush to his cheeks. “Whatever. Don’t expect me to do it again.”

“Aw, but I loved it.”

“Too bad.”

* * *

The itch has become more familiar than not. In a few weeks, Sylvain isn’t sure he knows what life was without it. It’s one day while they are all having lunch that things take an odd turn. The whole Blue Lions house is eating at one table, and Sylvain’s sitting next to Ashe and Ingrid. Felix’s in front of him, surrounded by Mercedes and Dimitri. They all are chatting about whatever comes to mind, which seems to be the newest updates on weapons. The main conversation resolves on Dimitri and Felix, everyone else adding comments from time to time.

Ingrid sighs. “Do you recall when these two spent their time as children pestering Rodrigue about weapons?”

Sylvain snorts. “How could I forget? The poor man looked anxious because he didn’t know how to explain it.” He brings the fork to his mouth, taking a bite and groaning as the taste hits his mouth. _Delicious_.

Mercedes laughs. “You were childhood friends, weren’t you?”

Ingrid nods, smiling at her. “We were! Though we kind of distanced ourselves after the Tragedy.”

Mercedes nods and as Sylvain takes his glass to drink, he raises a brow at the exchange between Dimitri and Felix.

“I must say that I much prefer the other update on swords rather than the newest one.”

“Are you serious, boar? I thought you much better than that. The Brave Sword is much better than any of the previous one.”

Dimitri sighs, shaking his head. “They will break easier and they weight a lot.”

“Who cares about that? As long as they kill the enemy, the rest is secondary.”

“I suppose you are right if that is your main focus.”

Felix clicks his tongue, frowning slightly. “You’re insufferable.”

Dimitri doesn’t reply – he just faces Dedue on his other side. He’s gotten better at ignoring Felix, Sylvain will give him that. Ashe laughs sheepishly. “I don’t know that much about weapons.”

Mercedes laughs. “Me neither! Don’t worry.”

“You don’t need to know anything.” Sylvain comments, smirking slightly. “You only gotta say the opposite.”

“You’re dumber than I thought.” Felix retorts and Sylvain laughs.

“Should we try it then?”

Felix rolls his eyes. Ingrid pats Sylvain’s shoulder. “We don’t want you dead just yet.”

“Hey! I can take him on a fight whenever I want.”

Felix smirks, his eyes showing hunger, determination and tease all at the same time. “Our previous sessions say the opposite.”

“I have improved, thank you very much. Let’s spar again tomorrow.”

Ingrid chuckles. “Never thought I would see you being the one challenging Felix.”

“There’s a first time for everything.” Ashe comments.

“Tomorrow, huh? I’ll wait for you. Can’t wait to kick your ass.” Their gazes meet, and Sylvain swallows slightly. Suddenly, the itch becomes unbearable and Sylvain brings his hand to his mouth, coughing harshly into it. He closes his eyes tightly. Once the wave is over and he feels he can at least breathe, he opens them slowly, looking straight at Felix, who’s frowning slightly and Sylvain knows him well enough. He’s concerned.

Mercedes starts talking hesitantly. “Sylvain? Are you…?” Sylvain doesn’t hear the rest as another wave of coughs comes to him. He stands up, ignoring everyone’s look of concerns and with one watery eye opened, heads towards the main exit of the living room, where he knows there will be a bathroom. Getting inside as quickly as he can and after checking he’s alone, he lets the hand fall, opening it. It’s a bit bloody, and he’s holding a few petals. Sylvain frowns, taking some paper to clean his mouth. He spits into it. His mouth feels metallic, the taste of the meal mostly gone.

_Petals? What is going on?_

* * *

From then on, Sylvain starts coughing up petals. He doesn’t know what to do with them – he has no idea what’s up with him, but he knows it isn’t good. He’s considered going to Manuela and ask her but hasn’t brought himself to do so just yet. For now, the bin in his room is full of red and blue. One morning, he’s sitting in his bed, finishing up buttoning his shirt when he hears a knock on his door. Sylvain stands up, opening it only to reveal Mercedes.

“Ah, Mercedes! My sweet girl, to what do I owe this visit?” He throws a wink at her.

She smiles at him. “I just wanted to check up on you.”

Sylvain tilts his head, his smile not wavering. “I’m good.”

A sigh. “I’m just quite worried about your throat condition.”

Sylvain shifts slightly, hoping she doesn’t see his bin. “It’s kinda annoying but really, nothing for a beautiful girl like you to be concerned about.” Almost as if on cue, he coughs and as soon as he feels a petal on his tongue, he pushes it to the side, biting on it.

Her eyes show pure concern and Sylvain sighs. “Look, it’s not so bad, alright? I’ll let you know if…”

She tilts his head, eyes widening as she spots something on his room. “What is that on your bin?”

“Mercedes, wait!” _Fuck me. _She walks past him as Sylvain closes the door, taking a deep breath and turning around, preparing himself. She’s kneeling in front of the bin, and Sylvain supposes there’s no use in hiding it now. He opens his mouth, taking the petal from before out. It’s blue again, though it’s mostly ripped. He scrunches his nose, letting it fall onto the floor.

“Have you been coughing these up?” Upon Sylvain’s nod, she frowns slightly. “This is Hanahaki Disease.”

“It’s got a name?” Sylvain feels a bit relieved – at least he isn’t the only one suffering from this. Mercedes stands up, a blue petal in her fingers and faces him. She nods.

“It’s not particularly common. Some researchers say that it is in the blood in some individuals. In any way, it happens with… unrequired love.”

“Unrequired love.” Sylvain repeats slowly.

She nods. “The individual’s lungs grow flowers, making the person cough up the petals. It’s due to the attraction towards someone who doesn’t love them back.”

Sylvain's mouth opens. “So it isn’t on my hand to cure this? There’s nothing I can do?”

“The other person can love you back and there is also the option of surgery. I think that if we try, we might find someone willing to do it.”

“Surgery to remove flowers from my lungs.” Sylvain murmurs, closing his eyes and shaking his head. “Unbelievable. So basically, I have fallen for someone and I won’t stop coughing up petals until they like me back or I get surgery?”

“That would be a good summary.” Mercedes agrees. “Most of the records of people who suffered the disease claim that the main problem is that the individual doesn’t know if the other likes them.” Hesitantly, she continues. “I don’t know all your symptoms, but this disease can end up in killing you in a few months. That’s why people get surgery as the last resort.”

Swallowing, Sylvain asks. “What are the consequences of doing the surgery?”

“It will erase all feelings towards the person. There’s a chance that even those which are not romantic will be gone.”

“So I would feel nothing for the person?”

“Pretty much.” Mercedes twirls the petal with two fingers before she lets it fall. “I am not sure what to recommend you apart from trying to confess but whatever you need, just know that I’m here for you.” Her blue eyes soften, and Sylvain feels himself relaxing slightly.

“Thank you.” He says honestly. She nods, smiling at him and hesitating for a second before putting her hand on his shoulder and squeezing.

“I’ll be heading to breakfast, alright?” Sylvain nods, standing where he is until he hears the door closing. He closes his eyes.

_Who is it? I have fooled around with a lot of people all my life, and I had never gotten this disease. Who is the cause of all this?_

* * *

It gets worse and worse. Sylvain has resorted to asking Lorenz for a handkerchief, though the promise of returning it doesn’t seem viable. The worst is on the battlefield – the Professor takes them out on assignments more often than not, which on normal conditions would be perfectly fine, because you can learn a lot from battling. In Sylvain’s condition, though, it’s a pain – dust, fog, smoke: anything out of the ordinary with the air earns him another coughing fit. He’s used to it, kind of – he turns to the side or covers his mouth to avoid everyone seeing the petals, and though he gets worrying looks from his classmates, he manages to brush them off. He knows he doesn’t have to hide it, but a part of him can’t bear the thought of anyone finding out that the famous “skirt-chaser” Sylvain has a disease that will kill him because someone doesn’t like him back. To be fair, he hasn’t been fooling around with anyone ever since this started, so he doubts the title means much at this point. It’s only a matter of time before somebody else approaches him, Sylvain knows, but it’s not like he can take any measures. It’s not up to him.

He still hasn’t discovered who all of this is for, and Sylvain isn’t even sure if they are worth it or not.

“Sylvain! Focus!”

“Sorry, sorry!” Sylvain shouts back, readying his lance. They are doing a mock battle with some Kingdom Soldiers, and though it is nothing too serious, it’ll prove as useful anyway. He spots one of the soldiers and he wills his horse forward, ending him in two hits of his lance. He had managed to get hit in return, and he knows a bruise will probably form on his left side, but he doesn’t really care about it. The only thing on his mind is the flowers: ever since the actual disease started, Sylvain has been lucky when in the battlefield – he has only been coughing in-between hitting and being hit.

He turns his head to the side as another coughing fit catches up to him, and he knows there isn’t anybody around, so he lets the petals fall. It doesn’t stop and Sylvain doesn’t get time to breathe, and before he knows it, there is a knight next to him.

“Kid, are you alright?”

Sylvain can only cough in response. The corner of his eyes start watering and he realizes faintly that the knight is calling for help. “Wait.” Sylvain says in-between coughs. “I’m good.”

“You are not good. We cannot allow you to risk your life on the battlefield.”

Sylvain can’t even reply to that. He feels his throat closing up, and he thinks: “_This is it” _when, with a final and strong cough, a full _flower_ comes out of him. Once it’s out, Sylvain can finally breathe again. He looks at the flower, frowning slightly: it’s small but it has long petals and though it is covered in blood, Sylvain can tell that it’s blue, and he starts considering getting a book about plants and flowers to learn more about it. It’s beautiful. He breathes heavily, closing his eyes to pull off the dizziness.

“That flower…” The knight says and Sylvain shakes his head, willing his heart to calm down. _You are alive. Relax._

“Don’t spread it.” Sylvain tells him, voice too rough. Though his brow is furrowed, the knight sighs.

“Okay. My son had it too. The disease, I mean.”

“What did he do?”

“We forced him to have surgery when he reached the state you are in.” He points to the flower. “I would recommend you start considering it as well.”

Sylvain nods if only to satisfy him. “I will.”

“Did you call for me?” The professor arrives with Felix and Dimitri at both her sides. Sylvain crushes the little flower in his hand, but he catches his friends’ gaze looking at his fist.

The knight looks at Sylvain before nodding. “I did, but I am afraid it was a misunderstanding. I thought I had seen something happening, but I was wrong.”

The professor’s eyes glance from the knight to Sylvain, who decides against speaking. “Sylvain, are you okay? Your hand’s got blood.”

“Ah, I’m good, Professor. Just a little cut. Nothing too serious.” He quickly lies, and it hurts to talk. From Felix’s raised brow, Sylvain knows he hasn’t bought it. Sylvain just hopes he doesn’t ask him now.

“Alright. It’s time we head back. Come on.”

The four of them follow her in comfortable silence. Sylvain’s focused on the meaning of a complete flower coming out – does this mean the disease is already advanced?

“What’s up with you?” Felix’s voice breaks him from his thoughts. Sylvain looks down at him – Dimitri, the knight and the professor are ahead, while Felix is walking next to him.

“Nothing. I’m good.”

“Like hell you are. Show me your hand.”

Sylvain shakes his head. “No.”

“It’s not a cut, is it?”

“What does it matter?” Sylvain murmurs, sighing.

“You have been coughing for months now. It’s a damn pain.”

“Well, it’s not like I can help it.” Sylvain bits out, and if he sounds bitter then he doesn’t give a shit.

Felix clicks his tongue, looking to the side. “If you don’t want to tell me, fine. But take care of that, dumbass. We promised to die together.”

Sylvain’s heart does a flip inside his chest. He feels warmness spread through him and with it comes the itching sensation. Sylvain bites the inside of his cheek hard to avoid coughing, and he makes a noise from the back of his throat. Looking down at him, the realization hits Sylvain and leaves him gasping for air. The person he loves is Felix, and it doesn’t scare Sylvain, not as it should. Sylvain doesn’t know what it feels like not to love someone who has been by your side for so many years. _When_ had this love changed into something different, something worth Sylvain dying over?

He loves Felix, but there is no way he loves him back. The realization makes Sylvain’s throat close even more.

* * *

He’s surprised when Dedue recognizes the petal.

“It’s from a forget-me-not. Though it is a bit darker than it should be.”

Sylvain blinks, tilting his head. “What does it mean?”

“From what I know, it symbolizes true love. It also represents faithful love and memories.”

Sylvain isn’t astonished at this point.

* * *

Sylvain wakes up with another coughing fit. Sitting up, he blindly reaches for the bin he keeps next to the bed now. He ends vomiting into it, and Sylvain spends a few minutes, waiting to see if things inside of him have calmed down a little and regaining his breath. He turns the light slowly, blinking and groaning as it hurts his eyes. He looks to the bin, only to see a few forget-me-nots surrounded by blood.

Sylvain wants to cry.

* * *

“You aren’t sleeping.” Felix states one day and Sylvain breathes out slowly, even if it hurts. He waves his hand dismissingly.

“What does it matter?”

Felix arcs a brow but doesn’t comment. Sylvain resolves into another coughing fit.

* * *

He can’t stand to be around Felix. The mere sight of him ends up in his throat closing, and he doesn’t think he can go on like this for much longer. He’s played the sick card, hoping it will last him enough to think up a solution.

He _is_ technically sick, so they can’t really call him a liar. Sylvain’s sitting on his bed because lying down scares him to death – _what if I actually choke to death?_ – and resting his back against the wall, the bin in the middle of his legs and his eyes slightly closed. He’s dozing off, and Sylvain clutches the bin tighter, wishing to catch at least twenty minutes of sleep. Sometime later – maybe Sylvain really did end up sleeping – a voice wakes him up.

“You… What the heck?”

Sylvain groans, cracking one eye open. Felix comes into view, his hands resting on his waist, and he looks just good. Amazingly good. Sylvain coughs. He’s exhausted, and even if Mercedes had come to him a few days before to inform him that he should take surgery as soon as possible or he may actually die, Sylvain hasn’t brought himself to do it. There’s just something he doesn’t like about living on without loving this man he has loved mostly all his life, one way or another.

He really is a hopeless romantic.

“Sylvain?” He blinks, getting out of his thoughts.

“Yeah, yeah. Hey.”

“Are you going to explain this?” He motions to himself and Sylvain laughs bitterly. _You’re gonna die anyway. May as well tell him and die with the truth._

“You have a bin full of… flowers.” Felix says with a tone of disbelief. _Honestly, same._

“Yeah. Forget-me-nots.” Sylvain clarifies.

Felix sighs and Sylvain can tell he’s frustrated. “Are you going to elaborate?”

Sylvain sits up straighter. _Bad choice_. He starts coughing harshly again, and Sylvain knows this well enough – until the flower comes out and his throat is raw, there’s no stopping. He closes his eyes tightly, even if that doesn’t avoid the tears forming in his eyes. He feels a hand on the base of his neck, patting lightly, and finally, the flowers come out – one and two forget-me-nots, bloodier than before and also bluer. Sylvain stays with his head on the bin for a minute, catching his breath before looking up towards Felix. He’s supporting himself with his free hand on the wall, knee on the bed and Sylvain swallows. “Do you need more explanation?” He manages to croak out, his voice extremely rough.

Felix’s looking closely at Sylvain’s face. He lets the hand on his shoulder go and sits down next to him, so they are side by side. The contact both comforts him and kills him, and Sylvain still doesn’t know what to do with it. “This is Hanahaki Disease?” Felix asks, cautiously. Sylvain nods. Felix looks the other way, and Sylvain whines slightly – he wants to look at his face closely again. “I’m guessing you have confessed and they don’t return it?” He sounds hesitant and… sad? Maybe Sylvain’s just hallucinating. “Why don’t you get surgery?”

Sylvain shakes his head slightly. “Can’t.”

“I can contact my father. He probably knows someone who can perform it.”

“I’m not going to get surgery.”

“Like hell you aren’t. You are dying, Sylvain.” Felix stands up suddenly, and Sylvain already misses his warmth. He coughs, but this time he doesn’t bother with the petals and just lets them fall out. “I’m not letting you die because you are too dense or romantic to do it yourself or whatever your noble reason is.”

It’s rash and pure concern and honesty. “Let’s go see Manuela. Maybe she can do something.” He takes the bin and puts it on the floor before forcing Sylvain up. Sylvain snatches himself out of his grip.

“Felix. I’m not going to. I would rather die than keep living without loving him.”

Felix frowns. “I’m not letting you die.”

Sylvain lets out a weak laugh. He’s too tired and at this point, he wishes death would just pass by and collect him. Sylvain would be thankful. “Well, I’m going to die for _you_, so something here isn’t clicking.”

There. The truth is out and Sylvain doesn’t feel any better nor worse. He considers if the flowers can grow around his heart as well before shaking off the idea. Sylvain watches as Felix’s eyes widen as the realization hits and he opens his mouth to respond, but Sylvain starts coughing again. He crunches down, resting his hands on his knees and looking to the floor as more petals and flowers start coming out. Once he’s more or less done, he feels a hand on his jaw and Sylvain tiredly follows it until he’s face-to-face with Felix. “You’re a fucking idiot.” Felix collapses his lips with Sylvain’s, and it’s a messy kiss from both parts – Felix due to his inexperience and Sylvain because of his state – but it’s a kiss nonetheless. When they part, Sylvain feels like he can breathe a little bit better.

“You…” He whispers against Felix’s face. He coughs again. _Can Felix really love him like this?_

Felix clicks his tongue as the petal falls in the middle of them. He grips Sylvain’s cheeks with his hands, forcing eye-contact. Sylvain blinks – Felix’s eyes look just so beautiful from this close that if Sylvain has to die for this man, he will do so gladly. “Do you really need me to say it?” He doesn’t reply and Felix sighs. “I’m only saying this once, so listen carefully, prick. I love you. I have for a long time.” Felix’s blushing and Sylvain closes his eyes, resting his forehead against Felix’s. Sylvain lets the words wash over him for a few minutes, and this time he believes him. When he breathes deeply, he can do so freely.

Even if Sylvain is shaking, he manages to catch Felix’s lips with his. He lets the sensations envelop him – Felix’s lips, his hands covering his cheeks – and he knows he must taste of blood and petals, however those taste, but he hopes Felix doesn’t mind. As they separate to breathe, Sylvain feels his knees giving upon him. Felix barely manages to hold them both up for a few seconds before he collapses on top of Sylvain, and as Felix looks down at him, his knees on either side of Sylvain’s legs, he feels like the luckiest man alive. Because he’s alive. He’s made it.

“Are you really… Goddess, you’re impossible.” Felix murmurs, using his hand to take care of the tears on Sylvain’s face. He hadn’t realized he had been crying.

“I have been dying for months.” Sylvain retorts, closing his eyes as Felix’s hand go to his hair. “Allow me to be happy.”

“You_ can_ be happy, but you’re an idiot.” Felix says before lowering his voice to a whisper. “Can’t believe you were really willing to die for me.”

Sylvain cracks one eye open, memorizing Felix’s expression. He’s blushing and biting his lip and looking at him with a look in his eye Sylvain can’t allow himself to consider twice. Sylvain smiles softly up at him. “Of course I would.”

Felix makes a sound from the back of his throat, and it is then that Sylvain clutches Felix’s shirt and brings him down, hugging him as hard as he can given how weak he feels. Felix rests his head on the curve of Sylvain’s neck and they’re a mess of limbs but with Felix close to him like this and his body working like it should, for the first time in months, Sylvain feels at peace. “Don’t fall asleep on the floor. I’m not up for your complaints about a sore back tomorrow.” Felix comments after a few minutes, though it lacks any bite.

“I’m too tired to move to the bed.”

“You exhaust me.” Felix murmurs but presses a light kiss on his jaw before sitting up and getting off Sylvain. Wordlessly, he helps Sylvain up and takes him to bed, and Sylvain would tease him or comment on it but – he is just so happy. Once Sylvain is laying in bed, Felix runs his hands through his hair and Sylvain lets out a deep sigh at the feeling. Sleep is calling for him too strongly. A pair of lips on his forehead is the last thing Sylvain is aware before he falls asleep.

**Author's Note:**

> this fic now has [art](https://twitter.com/Keypy0n/status/1173915771057127424) made by the great @keypy0n on twitter! go check it out!! <3
> 
> thanks for reading!! kudos and comments are appreciated! i also apologize for any mistakes you may find :'))
> 
> twitter: irwinshope
> 
> tumble: glazedbucky


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